Summer's End Read online

  It twirled hypnotically as Jacob wondered who it might have belonged to and why they had hidden it in the front hall.

  Before he had time to figure it out, a shadow passed over the wall at the end of the hall. The pitter-patter of small, bare feet echoed through the house. A medicinal smell seeped into the air.

  “What was that?” Jacob whispered urgently. His body seized up.

  “I don’t know,” Ichiro said. “Let’s get out of here.” The necklace slipped from his fingers, clattered to the floor and slid under the table, but the sound fell on deaf ears.

  The boys turned and ran out of the house. Without pausing to shut the front door, they sprinted past the sign, past the well and across the clearing. At the edge of the woods they stopped and looked back.

  Time stood still. A cool wind swept through the trees, bending the grass and making the ground look like a rolling wave. The surrounding trees rustled impatiently. Jacob took his first breath since they’d fled. He stared at the open door with wide eyes.

  Something moved inside. He grabbed Ichiro’s arm and prepared to run again, but then the something hopped out of the door, down the front steps and landed gently in the grass.

  It was a rabbit. It stood up on its back legs and looked in their direction, its nose twitching and its straight ears swivelling side to side. After a moment it hopped away into the woods.

  Jacob and Ichiro burst out laughing, and their bodies shook for the better part of a minute. Jacob punched Ichiro playfully on the arm and Ichiro hit him back. They turned and headed back to the canoe.

  “I knew it was a bunny all along,” Ichiro said.

  “Liar! I saw your face. You were as scared as I was.”

  “Okay, fine. The bunny freaked me out.” Ichiro brushed a low-hanging branch of pine needles out of the way as they walked.

  As they neared the water, away from the heart of the island, away from the house, Jacob’s feet felt heavier. Like his shoes were full of water. As if something was trying to keep him there.

  The world was a silhouette, the trees nothing but black shadows and outlines against the blazing summer sky. The canoe banged gently against the side of the dock.

  As they paddled out into the sparkling golden lake, Jacob said, “This island is pretty cool.”

  Ichiro turned around to face Jacob. “Yeah. I’m going to my aunt’s tomorrow, but let’s come back soon. This could be our summer hangout. I think there’s a lot more to see. What do you think?”

  “I don’t think I could stay away if I wanted to,” Jacob said.

  For some reason he couldn’t quite explain, he instantly felt a twinge of doubt and anxiety. He shook it off and dipped his paddle into the calm water.

  Before them, the sun lit their route home. Behind, whorls of mist drifted off the lake’s surface and encircled the island, wrapping it in fog.

  THREE

  July 5

  Jacob ran as fast as he could, but it wasn’t fast enough. He leapt over roots and rocks and ducked under low-hanging branches. His heart pounded against his chest. His lungs burned and wheezed. He pumped his legs harder, swung his arms quicker, and yet he was too slow.

  He was going to die.

  The creature closed in on him.

  Miraculously, Jacob reached the edge of the woods before he was caught, but then—

  He came to a skidding stop and ground his feet into the dirt. He had nearly run straight off the edge of a cliff. He peered wildly over the ledge. The drop appeared to be more than five hundred metres. It felt like he was balancing atop the tip of the CN Tower. Below — far, far below — was a cool blue sheet of water, solid as concrete and calling his name.

  Jacob spun around, but it was too late.

  The bunny burst through the treeline and flew through the air with a mad shriek. Jacob raised his arms to block his face and caught the bunny in his hands. He tumbled backwards and they both fell down, down, down …

  Jacob woke up before he hit the water. It took him a moment to realize he’d been dreaming. In his hands he clutched Mr. Jingles. He tossed the teddy bear aside and stared at his ceiling as he waited for a lingering feeling of vertigo to pass. Slowly, his heart rate returned to normal.

  “Stupid bunny,” he mumbled.

  He grabbed his phone off the bedside table and checked the time: 10:07. He texted Ichiro,

  whats up

  then played a few games of Angry Birds, but he couldn’t focus enough to do much damage to the green piggies. He casually tossed his phone on the bed beside him, then rubbed some sleep out of his eyes.

  His phone dinged. Ichiro had texted back.

  the sky

  lame

  I want to go back to the island. you?

  A moment later, his phone chimed again.

  Definitely.

  Dreamt about it all night.

  Let’s go when I get back from my aunt’s house. k?

  k

  He opened a browser and searched “Sepequoi Lake.” He was right about the name. He tapped a map and zoomed in. He could see the short waterway that connected it to Passage Lake. There in the centre of the small lake was the island they had discovered. He zoomed in as far as the map would allow, hoping a name would appear, but none did. He switched to satellite view and the island turned brown and green, but Summer’s End wasn’t visible — the house must have been obscured by the island’s tall trees. Jacob’s stomach growled. He turned off his phone and went downstairs in search of food.

  The kitchen was filled with the rich aromas of bacon, eggs, cheese and fresh-ground coffee beans. His mother was sitting at the table, sipping from a steaming mug and working on a newspaper crossword puzzle.

  “Sleepyhead,” she said, without looking up when he entered. A mid-morning sunbeam cut a path across the centre of the kitchen table.

  “It’s, like, ten after ten,” Jacob said. “Most of my friends don’t get up before noon.”

  “Huh?” She looked up from the table and frowned at her son, then a look of understanding softened her face and she laughed. “Oh, no, not you. A ten-letter word for a tired person. Sleepyhead. It’s twenty-seven across.” She tapped her finger on the crossword puzzle.

  “Ah, I see,” Jacob said, raising his hands and smiling. “All is forgiven.”

  “Well, thank God for that.” His mother returned the smile and turned back to her crossword. “There’s breakfast casserole in the oven. Help yourself.”

  “Thanks, Mom.” Jacob wasted no time grabbing a plate and scooping a piece of casserole. Steam escaped from between the layers of bread, and gooey processed cheese melted out onto the plate. It was his favourite breakfast. He poured a glass of orange juice, took a sip and began to feel a little more human. His weird bunny dream had faded away to oblivion.

  After he’d polished off his first helping of casserole and returned to the table with his second, his mother put her pencil down.

  “So, are you going to tell me why you were late getting home last night?”

  “Uh …” Jacob stalled, then decided there was no need to lie. He hadn’t done anything wrong. “You had to work late so I didn’t think you’d mind. How’d you know?”

  “I called your cell but you didn’t answer, so I called home and you didn’t pick up.”

  “Why?”

  “I couldn’t find my necklace and thought it might’ve fallen off outside. I was hoping you could check for me. And don’t change the subject.”

  “Did you find it? Your necklace?”

  She pulled the necklace out from under her shirt collar. It was a silver chain with a green gemstone pendant. “It was in the dish on my nightstand when I got home. I guess I forgot to put it on. And once again, don’t change the subject.”

  Jacob raised his hands in mock surrender and laughed. “All right, all right. I can’t get anything past you, can I?”

  “Of course not. I’m your mother.”

  “Well, here’s the truth,” he said, deciding to only share half the truth
. “Ichiro got this awesome new canoe — he gave it a dumb name, but it’s still awesome — and we took it out on the lake. It was pretty awesome, and time just kinda slipped away. But I knew you picked up an extra shift so I thought it was no big deal. Did I mention how awesome it was?”

  “Yeah, I think you covered that. But why didn’t you answer your phone?”

  “It didn’t ring.” Jacob took his phone out of his pocket and checked his call history, then showed the screen to this mother. “There’s no record you called.”

  “That’s weird.” She looked at her own phone’s call history. “Right here, it shows I called you at 6:06.”

  “We were—” Jacob stopped speaking. He’d been about to say “on the island,” but decided to rewrite history, only slightly. “We were paddling home at that time. Technology, eh?”

  “Yeah, I guess. Well, I’m glad you weren’t ignoring me. This is silly, but when you didn’t answer I thought of the Kalapik for the first time in years.”

  “I’m not a little kid anymore, Mom. You don’t need to worry about me.”

  “I’ll worry about you for as long as I’d like, which will be forever, FYI. It’s what we moms do.”

  “It’s funny,” Jacob said, although it wasn’t actually funny at all, “Ichiro talked about the Kalapik yesterday too.” He shovelled another fork of casserole into his mouth, fearful he might soon lose his appetite thanks to the direction the conversation was headed, and not wanting to waste a bite. “It seems a little twisted to lie like that to kids, don’t you think?”

  His mother sighed. “I used the Kalapik as a way to keep you safe when you were too young to go into the lake on your own. All the parents in town did the same, including mine when I was young. You’ll understand when you have kids of your own, Jake. You’ll do anything and say anything to keep them safe.”

  “Even lie?”

  “Yes, even lie. And the Kalapik is only a white lie. So many kids have disappeared without a trace over the years.”

  “Like Colton,” Jacob said flatly.

  “Yes, like Colton. I remember thinking, if it could happen to him, it could happen to you. To this day I see his mother wandering around town, muttering nonsense to herself. She was never the same after her son vanished. After her husband …”

  Jacob’s mother trailed off, as if she didn’t want to tell her son what had happened to Colton’s family after he disappeared, but Jacob knew. Valeton was a small town, so everyone knew. Colton’s father had hanged himself in the attic, and his mother — already mired in a deep depression — snapped. She spent her days walking up and down Main Street in her dirty purple housecoat, talking to herself and pleading with passersby. “Help me, help me,” Jacob had heard her say the previous fall as he rode past on his bike. “Help my boy.” He had slowed down temporarily but pedalled away fast when she locked eyes with him. A cold shiver had spread up and down his spine.

  “Anyway,” Jacob’s mother said, pulling Jacob back to the present day and their kitchen table, “I didn’t want to end up like Colton’s mom, or any of the other parents who have lost their children to Passage Lake. That’s why I scared you with stories of the Kalapik. He’s just Valeton’s own personal bogeyman, invented years ago out of a desire to keep our children safe.” She exhaled sharply through her nose, a half laugh. “And let me tell you, he works.”

  No kidding, Jacob thought. But how safe were Valeton’s children? He thought of the town limit sign. Please keep our children.

  And don’t bother bringing them back.

  He pushed the thought out of his mind and said, “I get it, Mom.”

  “I love you, Jake. With all my heart. So next time you’re going to stay out with your friends, just send me a text, okay?”

  “Of course, no problem.” He stood, gave her a hug and took his plate to the sink. “Well, as long as my cellphone works next time Ichiro and I go out canoeing.”

  His mother nodded. “Stay away from whatever dead zone you two paddled into yesterday.”

  Jacob left the kitchen without answering. There was no way he was going to agree to that request. If he had his way he’d already be in the canoe on his way back to Sepequoi Lake, back to the island, back to Summer’s End.

  FOUR

  July 11

  The sky was such a bright, bold blue that it was difficult to recall how creepy Summer’s End had looked the first time they found it, a week before.

  “Not that I want my parents to feel like they have to buy my love,” Ichiro said, “but I am really happy they bought me Scarlet Sails in order to buy my love.”

  “Me too. But I gotta say, that’s still a stupid name.” They laughed, and Jacob grabbed the door handle. It was still cold even though it had the full intensity of the summer sun on it.

  “Wait,” Ichiro said tensely.

  Jacob flinched. “What?”

  “Before you open the door, don’t forget: beware of bunnies.”

  “You better beware my fists if you freak me out like that again,” Jacob said in good humour. He opened the door, then frowned. “Hey, Ichiro?”

  “Yes?” Ichiro said warily.

  “Didn’t we leave the door open when we ran away?”

  “The wind probably blew it closed,” Ichiro said, but his tone didn’t sound very confident.

  They both peered inside for a moment before going in.

  In the front foyer, Ichiro looked back at the open door. “Don’t bother closing it.”

  “I wasn’t going to.”

  Although it was a beautiful July day outside and warm sunlight poured in through the doorway, the windows and some holes in the exterior walls, the hallway was cold and dark. Everything remained exactly as it had been before. The hall table, the frame with the carved quote, the snow globe, the spiderwebs and the dust.

  “No bunny,” Jacob said.

  “No bunny,” Ichiro confirmed.

  It was meant to be a joke, but neither boy laughed.

  “I didn’t notice this before, but the wood here looks darker than farther down the hallway.” Ichiro pointed at the floor and moved his hand in a wide circle around their feet.

  Jacob crouched and scraped the wood with his thumbnail. Something dark brown came off and remained beneath his nail. “It’s stained or something.”

  Ichiro cleared his throat. “Wanna keep going?”

  “We came all this way,” Jacob said with a shrug, rubbing his hand on his shorts and wishing he hadn’t touched the dirty floor. He wasn’t so sure he did want to go any farther. But he couldn’t say that aloud. Ichiro might never let him live it down, despite the fact that Ichiro wasn’t exactly racing ahead either.

  They looked at each of the closed doors, up and down the hall, like nervous contestants on a game show. I’ll take what’s behind door number three!

  “Well, where to first?” Ichiro asked.

  “Why don’t we start on the left and make our way clockwise around the main floor?”

  “Good idea. That’s why you’re the leader.”

  “Who said I was the leader?”

  “I did, just now.” Ichiro waved to the first door on their left. “Partly because you’re so smart, and partly because that means you have to go first.”

  Jacob sighed but led the way through the doorway into what appeared to be a parlour. Heavy curtains covered the windows, draping the room in darkness. Their eyes gradually adjusted to the change in light, slowly revealing the room’s secrets. A floral-print couch and chair with wooden legs were pushed up against the wall and faced an antique record player — the type with a large horn and a hand crank on the side — that sat on a small table under a blanket of dust. A small metal plaque on the base of the record player read, Victor V Phonograph. Paintings of lakes and forests hung on the walls, as well as a framed piece of cross-stitch that read Family is everything. Other than the dust and the dirt and the tangled strands of old cobwebs hanging from ceiling corners and lampshades, it looked like the room was still lived in. Like s
omeone might enter behind them at any moment, take a seat on the couch and start listening to some music.

  Jacob crossed the room to get a better look at the phonograph. He’d never seen one in real life before, only in pictures and movies.

  “This is pretty cool,” he said. There was a record under the needle. He wiped a layer of dust off its face, revealing the label.

  Wiegenlied, op. 49, no. 4

  Guten Abend, gute Nacht

  Johannes Brahms

  “It’s German,” Jacob said, as Ichiro approached and peered over his shoulder at the record.

  “I didn’t know you spoke German,” Ichiro said.

  “I don’t, but I recognize it. I think guten means ‘good’ and nacht means ‘night.’”

  “Well, good night to you too, Mr. Brahms. C’mon,” he said, with a smile and a nudge. “There’s nothing useful here. Let’s keep moving.”

  Jacob took one last look at the phonograph. He would’ve loved to see if it still worked, but Ichiro had already disappeared from his sight and he wasn’t completely comfortable with the thought of being alone in the house.

  It’s so old, it probably doesn’t work, he told himself in an attempt to feel a little better about moving on without testing the hand crank.

  He started to follow Ichiro into the next room. The wooden floorboards creaked as he passed over them. For a disorienting moment, it sounded like a set of footsteps trailed him. He stopped and looked over his shoulder, back into the parlour. Couch, chair, table, phonograph … Everything appeared the same as before.

  Once he was satisfied that he must have imagined the sound of footsteps, he caught up to Ichiro in the next room. It wasn’t much larger than the ornate dining table that dominated it. The table was bigger than any Jacob had ever seen. A dozen chairs surrounded it, and candles burned down to their metal holders sat in the centre of the table. A hutch with glass doors, filled with fine china plates, bowls and crystal glasses, sat against the wall.